Chapter 395: Ambition

“Tony Barros?” Wu Qingsong shook his head slightly. “If I remember correctly, he wasn’t our first choice, was he?”

“No.” Harold rubbed his eyes before continuing to read the intelligence report sent back by the envoys. “To be precise, he was only the fourth choice.”

“Our first choice… was it Garrod? Died defending Lorandell?” Wu Qingsong recalled the report he had just read. “The second choice died in an ambush, and the third succumbed to illness?”

“That’s what the envoys heard, but we can’t verify if it’s true.”

“So, this Tony Barros is either an incredibly lucky man or a brilliant schemer?”

“Highly possible.” Harold carefully re-read the intelligence, word for word.

After becoming the leader of the captured army, Tony Barros had led them away from the main battlefield, hiding in the northern mountains of the Warsong Clan. This act, which would have been considered cowardly among beastmen, ended up saving his completely doomed force—and in doing so, exposed the Warsong Clan.

While the Northern Alliance’s forces slaughtered the Warsong Clan and its vassals, Barros emerged from the mountains and struck Dustmother once more, severing the Northern Alliance’s supply lines. Then, he feigned an attack on the core territory of the Sarl Clan, forcing the Northern Alliance to send reinforcements, which he ambushed and annihilated.

With this battle, he firmly established his position as commander and once again led his troops deep into the mountains. When the north and south armies became deadlocked in the Barin Valley, he appeared behind the Northern Alliance, massacred the inhabitants of Daran Valley, and threatened the enemy’s flank, forcing them to retreat northward.

From then on, Tony Barros led his army into the war-torn ruins of the Lowlands, gathering scattered beastmen hiding in the surrounding mountains and establishing his rule.

According to intelligence, the Northern Sarr Alliance’s leader, Storm, subtly hinted to the envoys that, in the later stages of the war, Tony Barros had struck some sort of deal with them. The Northern Alliance did not attack his controlled territory, and in return, he did not interfere with their assault on the southern forces.

“He’s a despicable man,” was Storm’s evaluation.

“What was his background?” Wu Qingsong asked.

Harold flipped through his records. “He was a guard under Aquero, but not a personal bodyguard, just a regular warrior. However, this status gave him a certain level of respect among the captives, which led to him being appointed leader of a labor squad. That’s how he came to our attention and became one of the six candidates.”

“What did he say to you during your meeting?”

“Nothing remarkable, just standard, safe answers,” Harold shook his head. “If he had shown any exceptional qualities, I wouldn’t have ranked him as the fourth choice.”

“In the final anonymous vote, where did he place?”

“He only got one vote.” Harold sighed. “Judging by the markings, that one vote was his own.”

Wu Qingsong couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. “Interesting. I think he was hiding his true ability when he spoke with you. He’s quite the talent. Arrange it, I want to meet him again.”

The meeting was scheduled in the eastern Lowlands, in the mountains north of the Warsong Clan. For the ruler of Nagrand, traveling to meet someone in such a place was a clear act of lowering himself, but Wu Qingsong found this man, who had barely left an impression on him before, to be intriguing enough to warrant the trip. Of course, he arranged other matters along the way—he wasn’t going to waste several days on just one man.

By the time they arrived at the designated location, Tony Barros was already waiting. He did not act overly fawning, nor did he deliberately put on an arrogant front. Instead, he simply followed the etiquette of a Xuanyuan believer and bowed deeply to Wu Qingsong as one would to a priest.

“You’re not a follower yet, are you?” Wu Qingsong asked.

“I have not yet received baptism, but I do not believe that the great Xuanyuan would be overly concerned with such formalities,” Barros replied.

Wu Qingsong sat atop his horse, looking down at him, while Barros met his gaze with a calm, slightly reverent expression.

“Come with me.” Wu Qingsong urged his horse forward. “Everyone else stays behind.”

The two rode alone to a nearby hill. Wu Qingsong remained on horseback—if he dismounted, he would have to look up at the wolfman.

“How did Garrod die?” he asked bluntly. “Don’t play games. Be honest.”

“He was too eager to prove his bravery and died on the battlefield.”

“And Hansen?”

“I sent a false message to lure him into personally leading a scouting party, then shot him from behind,” Barros answered matter-of-factly. “Just in case he survived, I trampled him under my horse. If you must know, Campbell also died by my hand. I poisoned his medicinal salve.”

“And the other two?”

“They were unlucky. They died in battle before I could get to them. One was killed in the very first fight. If you ask me, I’d say Garrod was largely responsible for that.”

Wu Qingsong stared at him for a long time before finally speaking. “You’re devious and cunning.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Your Excellency,” Barros said. “I’m sure you understand I merely did what was necessary to survive and emerge victorious in this competition. I believe I’ve completed the task set before me, and I’ve done so quite well. Wasn’t this what you intended all along? You could have kept us from knowing about each other, but instead, you let us meet before leaving Nagrand. Under those circumstances, conflict was inevitable. And I won.”

Wu Qingsong continued to gaze at him in silence.

For a brief moment, he had a strong urge to kill this man. But then, an odd curiosity took hold of him instead. He wanted to see how far this ambitious wolfman could climb—how high he could rise.

He had no cheat-like abilities. All he had was a ruined land and ten thousand soldiers who theoretically did not belong to him.

If Wu Qingsong killed him now, his army would immediately collapse. Moreover, as the first leader on the Stampede Plateau to openly convert to the Xuanyuan Church, his death would bring no benefit to Nagrand.

“What do you need?” Wu Qingsong finally asked.

“Everything, Your Excellency.” Barros took a deep breath. 

Perhaps it was a sign that he wasn’t as calm as he appeared—or perhaps, it was just another display of his acting skills.

“Food, weapons, political backing. But what I need most right now is a priest, along with the Divine Knights they bring. Without the temple’s protection, I won’t be able to maintain control over this army. In fact, I might collapse completely under pressure from both the north and south. Even if they don’t attack me directly, they can simply cut off my supply routes and prevent trade and grain from reaching me. If that happens, my territory will fall apart on its own.”

“And what do you offer in return?” Wu Qingsong asked.

Barros hesitated for a moment, then inhaled deeply. “The entire Stampede Plateau. How does that sound?”

Wu Qingsong couldn’t help but laugh.

It was a grand statement but also utterly ridiculous.

A young leader, clinging to power by a thread, with nothing but a fractured land and a precarious position—what right did he have to make such a claim?

Yet, the scene felt eerily familiar.

Hadn’t he once told Nina, back when he had nothing, that he would restore her ancestral kingdom? That he would overthrow the elven empire?

Hadn’t that seemed just as absurd?

“The entire Stampede Plateau?” Wu Qingsong murmured, nodding slightly. “Very well, then. Consider it done.”